


Simple things

by lashden



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Bucky knows how to use ITunes, Dom Steve Rogers, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, I wrote a threesome to find some solace, I'm so not ready for the civil war, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pansexual Character, Polyamory, Steve is pansexual, Sub Tony Stark, Tony Stark is a sub and God bless him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6448993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lashden/pseuds/lashden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's really sucks when you are in love with two people and both of them are jerks. And you need to decide which jerk you love more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK, I wanted to start this work with long apologies about my English, but then I decided that no one cares (:
> 
> This work was written in Russian (by me) and I decided to translate it (maybe the greatest mistake of my life). I guess, after several hours I understood how shitty I am in translating my own works, but the first chapter was already done, so, here we are, looking at each other in silent shame.
> 
> I'd be enormously grateful if someone points out mistakes, misprints and incomprehensible grammar structures in the text (OR MAYBE SOMEONE WANTS TO BE A BETA, WHO KNOWS).

All right, so the building is crushing because somewhere inside the building Tony hits the bearing wall and completely takes it down. “Estimate time of full collapse – twenty seconds, sir”, delicately informs Jarvis.

Steve is watching how the red dot that has left the tilted construction flies to the first floor and then disappears in the cloud of dust. 

“Iron Man, what is your status?”

“…fuck!” Steve listens to the broken breath in the dynamic. “There was a child in the building!”

“We have cleaned the area”. Steve voice is confident and firm. “There couldn’t be any civilians”. 

“There was a child, for fuck sake! You’re a block away, how could you see anything?!” Tony is yelling too loud, and Steve grabs the shield harder, suppressing urgent need to throw it at Tony and shake him up.

“Mind the subordinations, Iron Man. There are no civilians”. Steve licks his lower lip and stares at the monitor. He is absolutely sure that there is no one in the area, because Steve controls the operation. Steve controls every detail, every piece of the plan, except… well, except Tony Stark’s actions. But the rest – the rest is under control, one thousand percent sure. 

The child is not in the building – Steve’s right.

But then after he goes through the reports from the Iron Man suit and sees a boy screaming in terror and crying out loud in a car nearby the collapsing building, he’s ready to admit: he was wrong, Tony wasn’t, what a rare situation.

Tony couldn’t make it with the car: he leaves the boy; he loses half of his suit trying to escape from the concrete wreckage; he lands near Steve covered in blood. Tony is silent. 

The last time when Steve sees him before self-imprisonment in the workshop Tony stays in front of the Tower and violently rubs his hands, over and over, until the metal gloves begin to grind. Tony stops and then blankly stares into nowhere for a really long time.

Steve always knows what to do.

Steve knows how to inspire six people and one God to work as a team and achieve rewarding results. Steve knows how to manage the operation and how to give commands in a way that people will listen. Steve knows how to draw a plan that allows the team leaving the collapsing building a minute before not a minute after the crush. Steve knows how to take care of Natasha and Clint, what to tell Bruce and which instructions to give Bucky.

The only thing Steve doesn’t know how to control is Tony, Tony Stark who drinks all night and then goes to the roof of the Tower to test the aerodynamics of his costume. Without the costume.

For several times Steve follows him and watches how Tony balances on the edge of the roof with a bottle. Steve doesn’t say anything, Steve doesn’t come closer. Steve watches how Tony drinks and laughs, and then curls on the roof and lays there still. 

Steve doesn’t worry, no. He methodically looks through the reports; he checks on Clint who was injured during the last operation. Steve cooks for Bucky, draws a lot, goes out for jogging. 

Steve gives Tony a week: a week to be isolated in warm company of blueprints and the guilt. Steve is well aware of what Tony feels. Steve understands what it is like wanting to be hurt to make the pain go. He understands where Tony finds this maniacal work energy, where he finds this self-hatred that prevents him from sleeping, over and over bringing him to the point X.

“If you continue going drunk on the roof, one day you’ll end up dead on the pavement”, this is the first thing Steve tells Tony, when he comes to his garage. And Tony looks at him in pure amaze as he absolutely forgot that there are other people beside him in the Tower.

“Like I care”. Tony nods to him and goes back to work. “If you are done with talking, don’t hesitate to leave”.

Steve examines the workshop: crumpled paper on the floor, pieces of metal in the corners, a pile of bottles and Mister Tony Stark with almost black circles under his eyes and four-day stubble.

“Stop trying to kill yourself, Tony. It’s not your fault”.

“All right… I’ve almost forgotten that you have very, very selective hearing”. Tony claps on the table and moves the blueprint away. “Get lost, Cap. Find someone else to heal, someone to talk about team spirit, about how we made everything that was possible. About this almost perfect operation, where people died, but, well, you know, they always die, and this time it was for the sake of the USA”.

“Tony…”

“Are you fucking deaf?!” Tony pushes him and bares his teeth. “Get lost, Cap!” 

“I understand what you feel”. Steve crosses his arms on the chest, and Tony laughs in his face.

“Come on, in what world you, Captain Perfection, can understand me?! You never make mistakes! And I had to create an AI to watch where I would fuck up again and to guide me not to fuck up even more. But even Jarvis is not perfect”, Tony grins and rubs his face. “I fucked up even creating Jarvis”.

“I’ve also made mistakes, Tony”.

“Are you talking about your boyfriend frozen in the mountains? Guess, you were so sweet to him that he’s already melted”, Tony chuckles. 

“Tony, stop it!” Steve reaches out, but Stark angrily pushes his shoulder.

“How many children have you killed, Captain Virtue?”

“I haven’t killed any of them”.

“Congratulations. And I’ve killed thirty nine. Care to see the gallery of their faces?” Tony clicks on the panel. “Here, look…”

“I’ve already told you to stop”. 

Steve knows how to order. Steve knows to speak in a way that make people immediately obey. But maybe Tony is not like other people; maybe he’s something else, because he shuts his lips tightly and makes a step forward.

“Hit me”. Tony speaks very quietly. “Please, Steve, just hit me”.

They stand close to each other. Steve watches how Tony shrugs and bites his lip, he’s almost visibly shivering.

“No”. Steve has no doubts: no beating, no purposeful harm. He comes closer to Tony. “I won’t do it. That won’t help. You’ll still be sore and depressed and beaten”.

He puts a hand on Tony’s neck and gently touches his spine. 

“Trust me. I can help, if you let me”.

And then, in a second something breaks inside Tony: he stops grinning; he unclenches his fists and relaxes shoulders. It’s like taking off another iron suit: Tony looks devastated and tired and needing comfort.

“Please, Tony, trust me”.

About a minute they stay in complete silence. Tony looks at the floor, Tony looks at his palms, and Tony shutters his eyes and after terrible inner struggle exhales: “All right, Cap. I’m all yours”.

Steve wraps Tony around the waist and gently presses another hand on his neck. He tightly holds Tony a bit higher Adam’s apple and blandly strokes him, while Tony is trying to adjust to the grip. He is not frightened, no. Maybe, when you have a reactor in your chest, there are really not many things left that could scare you.

“I’ll count to ten, Tony. On ten I’ll remove the hand. If you feel uneasy at any moment while I’ll be counting, if you start panicking or remembering anything that may hurt you, you’ll use the word…” Steve watches how Tony inaudibly says “Afghanistan”. “You’ll say “Afghanistan”. I want you to focus on my fingers and the count”.

Tony takes a short breath. 

“You understand I’m not going to punish you, right?”  
There are goosebumps on Tony’s skin, and he tries to massage his arm to hid anxiety. “You didn’t do anything wrong – it’s not a punishment. If I wanted to punish you, I would ask Jarvis to block the door in the workshop and you would have to spend time with Avengers, you know, talking about team spirit”.

“I know that you are helping me, Cap”. Tony’s voice is trembling. “And my only hope that you didn’t learn this kind of first aid in the army. It would be a shame on the whole USA, if they strangle their heroes…”

“One”, says Steve and wraps his palm around Tony’s neck. Tony exhales with some sort of unexpected amusement, and Steve feels how his muscles tighten under the hand. Tony wants to push him away, to make a step back, and to regain the control over the situation. 

“Two”. Steve touches Tony’s back with free arm and hugs him closer. They look at each other, and Steve carefully watches how Tony’s pupils widen and he opens his mouth. 

“Three. It’s not your fault that he died”. Oh, Tony wants to protest, he even tries to reply somehow, but Steve moves the hand and presses Tony’s chin with the wrist making him silent.

“Four. You can’t control everything. How could you know that the building won’t take the pressure? How could you know that there was a child on the parking lot?” Steve shakes his head and pushes fingers deeper into the skin. “Tony, I’m the one who manage the operation. I had to foresee things like that”. Steve knows that Tony wants to be the one to blame, but in a team, in a partnership you divide the responsibility.

“Five. Tony, you need to trust me. I can’t make sure that everyone is safe, if you continue doing what you want and how you want and not sharing your plans with me. There’s nothing wrong with delegating some responsibility to other people”. Tony closes eyes and puts his palm on Steve’s hand on the neck.

“Six. You need to allow me to have at least some control over you, Tony. You need to understand that you are not alone; you have people who are ready to help. And I would be grateful for a chance to comfort you, if you need it. I would be grateful if you allow me to show how much the Avengers care”, Steve cocks his head and kisses Tony’s wrist on his hand. “How much I care”. 

“Seven. You don’t have to prove anything not to me, not the rest of the team. You’re a good person. I know how much you do for us. It’s enough to ask for help. You don’t have to become a better, stronger person to come to me, Tony. I accept you, and I’ll do anything you need to feel better”. Steve puts hand on Tony’s chest and covers arc-reactor with his palm.

“Eight. I count on you. I believe that you will ask for my help, and I won’t be forced to come here and assemble you from broken pieces again. It’s not easy, you know, to see you like that. I'm always at your service – there’s no need to wait until the whole thing starts killing you”. Tony breathes out and slips his fingers into Steve’s hair.

“Nine. I’m much stronger than you, and I can protect you, Tony, from everything, including yourself. I’m always right behind you”. Steve feels fast beating of Tony’s pulse and loosens his hold.

“Ten”, Steve pulls away his arm. “Do not hurry to breathe in”.

Tony is not in a hurry: he shuts his eyes, sincerely smiles and only then inhale. He slowly leans against Steve and follows the line of his upper lip with the tongue, while Steve is gently caressing Tony’s back.

“I will have bruises”, Tony informs in strangled voice and bites Steve.

“Yes”, Steve agrees easily and gripes his ass.

“And everyone will see that I have bruises on my neck”

“Yes”, Steve agrees again and pulls Tony.

“Oh…” Tony trusts forward and throws his arm around Steve’s neck. “That’s really hot”.

Steve is silent; Steve doesn't say: “I know”.

Everyone knows how hot Tony Stark is with bruises on his neck.

Complicated things start very simply.


	2. Chapter 2

*  
Steve admits that he is in love with Tony. But not right away.

It’s really not easy to admit that you are in love with Tony Stark, if you know the man.

The first times when Tony tries to ask Steve’s help are so terrible that Steve seriously starts thinking about leaving Manhattan and moving in some secret apartment in Brooklyn.

Tony wants to stop, but he doesn’t know how: he behaves in a way people usually behave when they want to have their faces beaten. Tony hums song about patriotism and war comrades, Tony refers to Steve only as “Mister Freedom, sir”, Tony mocks the Constitution, the president and shares with Steve his plans to become a super-villain (“I have everything required for the job: I have charisma, intellect and illegally hot nemesis Steve Rogers”). Tony shows him a new draft of the costume (it’s red and black) and a design of a tattoo (it’s blue, white and red and for some reason looks exactly like a shield) that he wants to have.

Tony doesn’t quit drinking, and at some point Steve has immense doubts if Tony is even capable to become sober. Tony makes some engineering stuff in the garage until he falls asleep on the table, then Jarvis wakes him up – and Tony continues working.

Tony breaks off with everyone in the Tower, and Bruce deletes him from friends on Facebook.

And then after three days of this mess Steve finds Tony in his bedroom, lying near the bunk. The whole thing ends when Tony sits on Steve’s laps and comes twice as Steve kisses and strangles him. After that Tony sleeps for fourteen hours, listens to a lecture on manners and polite behaviour, renews his friendship with Banner and calls Steve to watch some basketball in the evening. 

They don’t discuss a thing; Tony sits near the sofa, puts his head on Steve’s knee and shrugs under firm touch on the shoulder.

Step by step Steve persuades Tony to give up the habit of tearing every single contact with people when it’s become difficult to control the whole world and cope with burden of being Iron Man. Tony still tells every Avenger that they are shallow, stupid jerks; he continues to ignore meetings with Fury, he deliberately provokes Steve and fights with Bucky who suggests him to chill.

But when Steve says: “That’s’ enough” – Tony nods and retreats to the workshop. For several days he doesn’t speak to anyone except Jarvis. Well, if to be more accurate, Tony dictates numbers to Jarvis, and Jarvis dictates numbers in response – that’s the whole comforting conversations about eternal they are sharing in the garage. The damage to the Stark industries is estimated in kilograms of crooked metal and thousands of dollars that Tony spends on project’s material, but Stark doesn’t damage anyone else, so Steve counts it as a progress. 

Steve never interferes in his job, never.  
When Tony disappears in the workshop, Steve grabs some food, and as by accident leaves it near computer, well, kind of for himself. It’s not over-care – only subtle hint that even invincible Iron Man needs to eat.

Sometimes Tony silently points on the table, and Steve sits beside him, slips fingers into hair and scratches back of his head, while Tony works. Sometimes Steve reads and draws on the couch, while great Mr. Stark tries to save the world with his brilliant mind.

Steve doesn’t always get what exactly Stark is creating in the workshop. But that doesn’t prevent him from feeling immense pride every time when Tony’s face is shown in the evening news in the high-techs block.

It’s not easy to say what Tony is building this time, judging only by the holograms hanging in the air. With equal chances for success, it could be both the Doom’s day machine and a new bow for Hawkeye. Tony is working for three days now, and during this period he managed to create a cemetery of cups near his table that is also used as a chemical lab. Steve is astonished with his resourcefulness and carelessness and he prays to God that nothing will be brought to life from those cups.

Steve leafs through the book and listens to quite muttering over the computer: Tony makes mistakes in three out of five words and again spells the formula to Jarvis. He makes some senseless attempts to repeat what he was trying to say, then swears, and leaves the table admitting his defeat.

Tony says, “I’m tired”. And Steve puts the book aside, reaches out inviting him to lie beside. Shoulder blades pressed to the chest: Tony leans his head on Steve’s biceps and surrenders his neck. For several minutes they lie in silence; one can touch Tony’s tension, his tiredness. Spending so much effort on being disciplined, on controlling each one of his steps not to feel guilty again – it’s tiresome and devastating, Steve gets it.

“You did great, Tony”. Steve gently pets his hair and kisses the shoulder making Tony arching and pressing closer.

“Still, there is a lot to do”.

“Tony Stark, always trying to build Rome in one day”. Steve carefully moves under Tony and changes their position: his fingers on Tony’s neck, counting the pulse.

“I’m doing it for you, Cap. You know, for those moments when you’d give an interview to the ICON magazine and you could boast about my success: Tony Stark, genius, philanthropist, messiah”. Tony hems and shuts his eyes, when Steve pulls him closer and kisses below the ear.

“You need to rest. Will you do that for me, Tony?”

Steve’s practically hearing how the thoughts are changing in Tony’s head. He wants to snap back, wants to sarcastically say: “Of course, I’ll make it, sir. I’ll make the USA proud of me!”, he wants to show his anger and exhaustion. But Tony makes an effort. Steve appreciates these small concessions.

“For sure, Cap”. Tony takes a deep breath and tightly presses himself against Steve’s chest.

Steve never actually tries to strangle Tony – it’s not what it’s about.  
The point is to give Tony a feeling that Steve, on the right circumstances and if someone asks nicely could control everything. Steve could control how many time Tony eats, how many glasses of water he drinks, how often he goes to his psychological counsellor. Steve could control if Tony sleeps well, if Tony comes well, if Tony breathes well. Steve is the one who could make him to live happy life full of morning yoga, fresh fruit smoothies and healthy sex on weekends. Steve is the one to decide if Tony is allowed to sacrifice himself in the name of peaceful work or not. 

“Do you remember your safe word?” A nod.  
“And will you use it if there’s a need to do it?” One more nod.  
“All right, I appreciate you consciousness”.

Steve firmly crushes Tony’s throat and kisses him on the back of the head. Tony never uses the safe-word, but there’s hope that he doesn’t want to risk and sue SHIELD for their Captain breaking every possible rule and killing him during sex. Steve suspects that Tony trusts him.

They agreed upon ten seconds about a month ago. “I can bear more than that”, stubbornly says Tony. “But I don’t want you to bear something, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable”, Steve has to repeat it several times, but in the end it seems that Tony gets the idea.

Steve calmly counts for himself while putting free hand in Tony’s pant and laying it on the underwear slightly pressing on the cock. There is no rush; fingers easily outline the boxers’ stitch, and Steve feels how Tony starts shivering. The sensations of complete control, of limitless possession: Tony moans and pulls Steve closer as he puts force and deprives him of last air.

Steve made him reflect upon the experience, made him talk about it, because that’s how grown-ups do things like that. “What do you think about during these moments?” asks Steve while Tony draws another piece of armour. “Nothing”, Tony shrugs shoulders and makes a pause. “It’s really pleasant: to think about nothing”. 

As by chance Steve touches wiry hair and reaches the base of cock rubbing the lubrication. The crystal pleasure of metallic taste in the mouth, of sharp and yet comforting sense of his safety and detachment from the reality mixes with urgent need to get more, to feel more.

“We have three to go”. Tony raises his hips and relaxes as Steve covers his cock and slowly strokes it with gentle moves. “That’s all for now… You did great, Tony”.

Steve removes hands from his throat and breathes out through teeth when Tony touches inner side of his palm with tongue and draws a line. They lie on the couch hugging each other tightly, while Tony is slowly licking Steve’s palm: centimetre to centimetre, from the web of veins to the fingertips. 

“Am I doing it right?” Tony turns over and sucks Steve’s thumb tightly pressing lips around it.

“Yes, you are. I’m proud of you”. It’s easy to say that because it’s the way Steve feels. “Do you want to ask me anything?” Steve makes tighter the grip on Tony’s cock, moves the hand from the base to the top and opens his mouth, when Tony licks his fingertips. 

“Maybe, yes”. Tony lets the finger go from the mouth and turn over on the back.

“I’m listening carefully”. Steve follows a line from Tony’s collar bones to the bottom of his stomach and kisses his check, while Tony is trying to remember words people use when they want to ask something in very polite and very nice way.

“All right”. Tone hesitates and looks away. Steve’s not sure if he has ever seen embarrassed Tony Stark, so he rises up to capture this phenomenal moment.

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to break, you know”. Tony raises his hips, and Steve automatically moves palm on his dick. “I’m not going to break if we decide to try something more than these friendly hugs on my neck”.

“Oh, I see…” About a minute they watch each other; Steve pulls out palm from Tony’s pants and hangs over him, hands against back of the sofa. “I could spank you, if you want”. Steve smiles when he looks at Tony’s face.

Oh yes, Tony wants. Steve could just not ask. Tony wants the national icon to whip him and then to do the after-care and to talk about how great Tony handles things. Is Steve Rogers able to read thoughts? Who knows, but in case he is Tony starts thinking about how Steve says: “You are great, Tony” and helps him to come.

“Okay, we’ll do it”, Steve bends over him, and Tony reaches for a kiss.

Steve wait for these kisses afterwards: when Tony exhales on his lips, when he slightly touches his tongue, when they keep distance – half a minute, minute. And then Steve deepens the kiss, and Tony pulls him burying fingers in Steve’s messy hair and erases even slightest memory of space between them, destroys the very concept of separate existence. They ache for each other. 

Steve is in love with these moments when Tony moans in his mouth with pure pleasure. Steve is in love with these moment when Tony bends under him, closes his eyes and say loud and clear: “Fuck”, and then bites his lips. Steve is in love how Tony seeks for the touch and beg for more. 

Steve is in love with Tony.

“I’ll give you ten strokes”, Steve speaks into Tony’s mouth, while he pulls off the pants.

“Steve, do you have issues with the ten number?” Hoarse, almost roaring voice.

“I? I don’t have any. I‘m just concerned that in quarter of an hour you won’t be able to count after ten without Jarvis”. Steve pulls himself away from Tony and slowly sits of the couch. “Lie on me. Bend your knees and arms”.

“Fuck off”, nods Tony and grinning obeys the command. “I can solve the logarithms, while you’ll be spanking me”.

“And after that you’ll have a hard-on every time when you see a logarithm, how clever of you”, Steve pulls off Tony’s underwear and touches his back. “Do not forget to breathe”.

“That’s really problematic where you’re around”, says Tony and rests his forehead on the crossed hands.

“I didn’t get it, could you repeat, please?” Steve circles his buttocks and lowers his hands to the trembling hip.

“Nothing”.

Steve likes to look at Tony freezing in one position waiting for the spank: tight, disciplined body covered in sweat. He runs over the sculptured thigh muscles and smoothly moves the hands to the spine. Steve massages Tony’s shoulders, brushes his hair and then pulls them forcing Tony in open, vulnerable position.

Steve drops the hand with measured force, and the bronze skin immediately responds in red mark.

The sound of the hit hangs in the air.

“Breathe out”, Tony obediently opens his mouth and almost spit the air out. Steve doesn’t hurry him: he watches Tony stiffening his back, finding more balanced position on his elbows and pressing himself against Steve’s knees. 

“We could stop, if you want”, a soft touch on the tailbone; Steve runs between the hips and grasps his cocks. More touches – and Tony arches his back hissing, when Steve rolls his fist.

“Give me more”, Tony asks in hoarse, broken voice and raises his ass. “Yes, Steve, I’m sure, just don’t ask your stupid questions. More!” Steve tries not to smile but his face fails him.

Ten strokes – and both of them freeze. Tony attempts to breathe evenly and stop rubbing on Steve hoping to get rid of inner I-am-torn-apart-what-to-do-next feeling: it’s like not having some vital part inside your body, it’s like suffocating because you just can’t process all the sensation. 

“Fuck…” comments Tony when Steve pushes hand under his stomach and takes onto his lap. “Fuck, Steve, it was so good”, shares Tony in some sort of sincere astonishment.

“How do you feel?”

“As if my brain survived the clinical death”, Tony looks somewhere in the distance, and then stares at Steve who carefully studies his face. “I’m good, Steve, come on, I’m good... You have to admit that your soldier always violated discipline hoping that you would whip them”.

“No, they didn’t, as I spanked only those who stood out on the field. Because, you know, to be whipped by me – it’s a reward, not a punishment”, seriously replies Steve and Tony shakes his head.

“I spoiled Captain America. The descendents won’t forgive me”, Tony lazily hugs Steve and rises a bit when he puts a hand under his buttocks. Steve blandly caresses his burning skin: there’s some special care in his touches, some supernatural tenderness. He kisses Tony on the shoulder while he pets Steve’s hair.

“I designed a new game”, shares Tony. “You’ll like it. The goal is to protect the Earth from the aliens. Sort of…”

“So, the last three days, when you forgot about the food and sleep and manners, you were designing a new game?” Steve pushes onto red burning marks from the spanks and rises his eyebrow as Tony tries to move away from the pressure.

“No, I was creating a modification for Roddy’s suit. I designed the game during last forty minutes while you were reading Steinbeck. He’s so awful, Steve, how could you read it voluntarily?” Tony gets up and pulls the pants on. “For fuck sake…” He grimaces and reaches a pillow. “If I win, you’ll accompany me on this charity thing Pepper scheduled”.

Steve doesn’t say that he’ll be there even if he loses the game. Pepper sent invitations for them a week before. “It’s important for him to show up, Steve, and give some money to poor children. Captain America also loves children, am I right?” Pepper doesn’t threaten to cut off skin from their faces, if they miss the gala. She doesn’t depict their fragile bodies going through eternal sufferings if they decide to stay home. She just asks how Bucky is going, and Steve shivers in cold sweat. Red-hair women are too dangerous to be messed with.

“OK. But if I win, you’ll clean up the mess in the workshop”, Tony snorts in respond. “And when I say “clean up the mess, I mean that you won’t build a new robot to do it, but you’ll manage with the task by yourself”.

“Deal, mom”.

In ten minutes Tony roars, “It’s impossible” and throws the joystick away. Tony hates loosing, Tony hates loosing.  
“All right, admit that Jarvis helps you. You recruited him, Cap, while I was saving the world and now you are working in dynamic trio: you, Barnes and Jarvis!”  
“No, sir, it’s not like that’, replies Jarvis. “Mister Rogers won…”  
“I don’t want to hear that Mister Rogers won me because of some objective reasons, you, traitor!” Tony leans back on the couch and Steve smirks, puts a hand on his hip and turns for a kiss.  
“Always a winner, Cap?” Tony rises on his elbow and as Steve touches his lips spreads his leads wide to let the hand lower.  
“Just trying to meet your high standards, Mister Stark”.

Tony actually cleans the room. At first he makes Jarvis scan the cups: maybe there’s an intelligent life there and they are committing a moral crime? 

While they take shower together, Steve rubs Tony’s back and cups his cock, because, you know, Tony has cleaned his garage – that deserves some respect and gratitude. 

“It’s unbearable”, complains Tony and moves his hips.  
“Patience, sweetheart”, Steve bites the lobe of his ear.  
They stand under water hugging, and Tony throws back head to kiss Steve.

It’s not about the sex for both of them. Yeah, well, to be honest, sex with Steve Rogers is like getting presents to the Christmas, Hanukkah and birthday at one time. But if one asks about the relationship: about these small kisses before the boring meeting, these silly questions about how much did Tony sleep, these endless conversations about justice, honesty, about basketball games that they watch together… Then it’s a bit awkward to talk aloud about this amazing and yet scary feeling of perfect compatibility, mutual recognition and respect, when Steve know exactly what Tony wants and gives it to him, and them gives again, and again, until the happiness is too much. They sleep together, they fight together, they solve problems together – and thinking about it makes it hard to breath. How to handle this sense of home, how to converse the feeling of loving and being loved back? 

In the bedroom Steve helps him to tie a bow-tie and buttons the shirt while Tony touches his stomach and puts fingers under the belt.  
“Tony, I still want to talk about… You know”, Steve puts cuff-links and adjusts his shirt with some sort of supernatural concentration.  
“Yes?”  
“I want him safe”, Steve kisses Tony’s chin and shoves his hands under the jacket hugging Tony. “Bucky… You know, I had so many losses in my life. I’m not ready for another one”.

Steve knows it’s cowardice but he hopes that Tony won’t ask questions. Mainly because Steve doesn’t have any answers.

“I’ll try not to fuck up”, Tony becomes still, when Steve gets on his knees and slowly unzips his pants.  
“Thank you, I appreciate the gesture”.

Tony gripes his hair, when Steve rubs his cheek on Tony’s cock through the underwear and pulls off the boxers. Wet smack: Steve opens his mouth, follows the vein on the side of Tony’s cock, right to the base, and presses his lips there.

“Don’t move. It’s an order”, quietly says Steve and putting a hand on Tony’s hip fix his position.  
It’s so good, so good to be true; Steve relaxes his mouth and let Tony push forward, almost to the back. Tony feels the muscles’ spasm; it’s so tight, and Steve cocks his head, for back to forth, and speeds up the tempo when Tony moans and pinches himself to stay in the position.  
And, fuck, yes, he wants to move faster, he wants to press Steve in his stomach, Tony wants to fuck his wet mouth and beg “Please, do it again”, Tony wants to hit Steve cheek, but he doesn’t do any of it. Tony clenches fists and waits for Steve giving him another order.

“You’re doing it so well, Tony”, says Steve and blandly studies Tony who grins and hides his arms behind the back to stay still. He forces himself to obey the order – Steve loves the gesture.

And – oh, God, yes – it feels so good when Steve changes position a bit, and the head of the cock presses against his cheek. Tony looks, he fucking looks at Captain-fuck-you-are-so-gorgeous-America pulls Tony’ cock out of his mouth, licks the shaft and reaches testes with his precious wet hot tongue.  
“Please”, moans Tony and Steve swallow the cock once again. He hits Tony’s ass making him move; pleasure mixed with pain becomes only more vivid. Tony doesn’t last long; he quickly hammers in the mouth and hisses: “I’m so close, please, Steve”, while Steve squeezes his buttocks and pulls closer.

“You may come”, Steve raises his head, and they stare at each other: dark, almost black eyes of Tony who pants in relief “Thank you, love… Thank you so much” and grabs Steve’s shoulder while he comes.  
“It’s not…”, start Tony trying to be polite but then he shuts his mouth and just watch how Steve licks the come and swallow.

Fuck, how much Tony loves Steve, fuck.

They almost make it to the gala (if one doesn’t count an hour as a serious delay). According to Tony, they look illegally luxurious and “if people with throw money to your feet, Steve, or they will throw themselves, you need to understand and forgive them”. But Steve doesn’t reply. And, of course, Steve doesn’t say anything when he notices Tony gazing on their reflection in the mirror. Of course, he doesn’t.

The hall isn’t crowded; most of people went to hunt the champagne. Steve calls Bucky, presses the phone on shoulder and sets Tony’s bow-tie straight.  
“Hi there, are you all right, Buck?”

“More or less”, Steve listens to the rusting: Bucky turns off the TV and tosses on the sofa. “Stark has bored you to death and now you are seeking for a reason to leave him and run for your life from the gala? Tell him that you need to go home to check the Constitution. Because if that article in the New Yorker was correct we’ve forbidden the tortures in the 80s, so he’s acting against the law”.

“Just remind him that I can ask Jarvis to call the police and leave anonymous message that someone has broken in you apartment and that terrible person is eating the Doritos on you sofa, what a dreadful crime, huh? I bet even SHIELD won’t give a second choice to a person like that”, confidentially shares Tony. 

“No”, Steve ignores him and put a hand on his waste. “Just checking on you, Buck”.

“Yeah?.. I’ll behave, Steve, I promise. I even won’t give an interview about Tony Stark being a selfish arrogant prick who threatens people with his AI. Have a good time there – it’s an order”.

“Technically, you can’t give me orders, because I’m a captain, and you’re a lieutenant”, smiles Steve. “Have a rest”.

For some time they stand in silence. Some girls pass by; a meaningless conversation happens: “Good evening, Mister Stark, than you so much for coming, great honour for us”. “It’s my pleasure. I’m always willing to help”.  
“Oh, well, you’ve already did”. The girl points on a boy in the crowd: your-inventions-saved-Mickey-he-lost-his-arms-in-the-accident. The girls leave, and Steve watches how Tony’s face softens.

“Make prostheses, not bombs, huh? Maybe, I’m not that bad as everyone says”.

“I’m ready to fight with anyone who says that you’re bad person’, smiles Steve gently. Tony sniffs in respond and cocks the leans the head to one side showing the bruises.

“An hour ago the chance of be beaten by Captain America was a privilege, not a punishment”, Tony raises the phone and change the angle to fit the bruises in the picture.

“Seriously?” Steve raises eyebrow. “You’re going to take a selfie? Now?”

“I’m always serious when I’m about to take a selfie”, Steve makes a step to him and after putting hand on Tony’s neck touches the bruise below the collar.

“You’re not a bad person, Tony”, Steve caresses his throat. “You’re a good person trying so hard not to let anyone know it”.

“Oh, you solve the great mystery of Tony Stark, Mister Holmes”, Tony stretches under his hand and smiles. “How do you think, will Pepper be too mad if I upload the picture on our corporative Instagram?” 

Steve presses lips against his temple and look at the camera.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t mess with Pepper”.

It’s a marvellous picture at least because both of them look so happy on it. The photo won’t make it to the Instagram, but it will appear on every device that belongs to Steve and Tony (and Steve will even ask Jarvis to print it). And Tony will betray his ideals, fall for sentimentality and put the photo for Steve’s contact in the phone.

“Oh my God, Steve, I could become rich if I sell this photo. We finally could stop saving up every cent and throw away the bread crusts that you cut for Barnes… We even could buy you proper clothes, not these t-shirts for children that are torn apart on you big patriotic body”.

“I love you”, says Steve and takes the hand off the Tony’s neck.

“Well, that’s good”, Tony nods. “That’s really good that you admit your problems with feelings to me. Actually I could ask my therapist to help with your issues too…”

Steve laughs and puts a palm on his mouth.

“Shut up. Just shut up”.


End file.
